


Change of Heart

by fhsa_archivist



Category: Once a Thief (TV), SWAT Kats: The Radical Squadron
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-01-14
Updated: 2004-01-14
Packaged: 2019-02-05 18:58:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12800295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhsa_archivist/pseuds/fhsa_archivist
Summary: see individual chapters





	1. Bored

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Haven, the archivist: This story was originally archived at [Fandom Haven Story Archive (FHSA)](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Fandom_Haven_Story_Archive), was scheduled to shut down at the end of 2016. To preserve the archive, I began working with the OTW to transfer the stories to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. If you are this creator and the work hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Fandom Haven Story Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/fhsa/profile).

  
Author's notes: ummm. Mac's bored.  


* * *

Notes: Thanks to Ursula for reading it over for me. For Shadowcast's monthly challenge 'a drabble' on RatBoat 

 

 

Mac was bored. Bored, bored, *bored*! Not only was this a state he seldom found himself in, to feel this way now was... confusing. To say the least. 

The prospect of an entire week off had filled his head with all kinds of fun-filled plans. Despite the fact that he couldn't spend the time having a great time in some exotic, far away, sun-soaked paradise. Who knew that the Director would offer this unexpected boon only one week after he'd depleted his bank account buying himself a new, state-of-the-art entertainment system. CD player, widescreen television, VCR - with Dolby Surround Sound. The racy new paint job on his car looked great, though, if he did say so himself. 

 

No problem, he'd decided cheerfully. A week of partying in Toronto's bars, getting laid, and catching up on sleep would entertain him. Or so he'd thought. For reasons he couldn't fathom, the women at the five clubs he'd visited on his first two nights of freedom had... well, bored him. As had the men in the three gay bars he'd hit on the next night. 

 

And, really, three days of wallowing in bed until mid-afternoon had been enough. Dammit, he was bored with that too. 

 

LiAnn had, naturally enough, had more than enough money socked away to pay for a trip to Bali. And Vic... his practical and boring partner had announced, in his practical and boring way, that *he* planned to spend his time building shelves. Shelves for his pantry, shelves for his storage unit, shelves for his book collection. Then he was going to work on his truck, utilizing the workbench he planned to build in his storage unit. If that wasn't bad enough, a *really* exciting, three day camping and fishing trip would round off his vacation. 

Jesus! 

 

Mac actually found himself thinking, in his desperation, that the trip to some disgustingly picturesque wilderness might not be too ba- 

 

No! No, and no, and *no*! 

 

And, oh yeah, NO. 

 

Then again, some evil, malicious, *insane* part of his brain nudged, irritating Victor *was* one of Mac's favorite pastimes. 

 

You're losing it, Mac told himself firmly. He kept telling himself that, even as he picked up the phone and dialed Vic's number. 

 

Luckily, sanity reasserted itself when Vic answered. He hung up quickly, before ever saying a single word. 

 

The flutter of panic he'd felt on hearing that familiar voice had absolutely nothing to do with anything. Nor had the burst of pleasure filling his belly. He'd simply... come to his senses. Yeah, that was it. 

 

A sudden desire to do some spring cleaning filled him, and Mac set to work. In between trips to the laundry room to wash curtains and sheets, he industriously moved furniture and vacuumed the living area. Just as he was ready to start in on the bedroom, the doorbell rang. 

 

Vic - that was *not* a thrill of excitement Mac felt upon finding his partner in the hallway - greeted him with a frown. "Why'd you hang up on me?" 

 

"Huh?" Mac asked with his best 'who me' expression. 

 

Vic brushed past him, entering the apartment and turning to face him expectantly. "You called two hours ago. And hung up on me." 

 

"I did not. You're delusional, Victor." 

 

A snort greeted his denial. "Bullshit, Mac." 

 

Donning an expression of mock concern, Mac tsked. "Vic, Vic, Vic. What's wrong? You miss me?" 

 

Cocking his head to one side, Vic stared at him with narrowed eyes. He turned and crossed to the couch, flopping down comfortably. And stared at Mac some more. 

 

He wouldn't fidget under the green-eyed gaze. Would not fidget. He'd... get a beer. And sit at the other end of the couch. And ignore Vic's steady regard. 

By the time he was settled, open bottle of beer in hand, Vic's face had taken on a distinct look of amusement. 

 

"You've been cleaning." 

 

Mac shrugged. "So?" And, no, that hadn't sounded at all defensive. 

"You're bored." 

 

"I- Vic! You're certifiable," Mac sputtered. 

 

"You want to go camping with me," Vic continued. As if Mac hadn't spoken at all. 

 

"Camping?!" Mac repeated incredulously. "I do *not* want to go-" 

 

Unperturbed, Vic interrupted Mac, "You have any equipment?" 

 

Mac choked. 

 

"No, Of course you don't. No problem, I have an extra sleeping bag. Tent's plenty big enough for two." 

 

"You are disturbed, Vic. Seriously disturbed. I have no idea where you came up with this ridiculous idea, but I am not going cam-" 

 

"Pack warm clothes. It gets brisk in the evenings. Don't forget your hiking boots. I'll pick you up in the morning. Say, about five?" 

 

Not only was Vic having delusions, he'd gone deaf. Apparently not one of Mac's emphatic denials had been heard. "Vic, I... Five? AM?" he suddenly asked, horrified. 

 

Vic rose to his feet and pulled his truck keys out of the right pocket of his jacket. "Yes. AM. I'll bring enough gear and food for both of us, don't worry. Got an extra fishing pole, too." 

 

And he left. 

 

"I will not be fishing!" Mac yelled. Unfortunately, he didn't find his voice until Vic was long gone. 

 

Mac grumbled - loudly - the entire time he spent packing.


	2. Interested

  
Author's notes: Boys go a-camping.  


* * *

Notes: For Ursula - she made me do it! And, thanks to my brilliant beta's: Sue, Ori, and Elizabeth 

 

 

Humming and tapping his fingers against the steering wheel, Vic drove along deserted streets on his way to Mac's apartment. He'd always found a measure of peace in the quiet of pre-dawn Toronto. Anticipation fluttered through his gut as he pictured the newly-awakened Mac he'd find that morning. 

 

Thoughts of the protests, snarky comments, and whining Mac would voice at his early arrival only made Vic's smile widen. 

 

Because, at long last, his wait was nearly at an end. After plotting and planning, wishing and dreaming, for what seemed an eon, Mac was finally showing signs of returning his interest. 

 

Gradually, over the past few years, Mac's obsession with LiAnn had faded. As had his hopes that LiAnn would see the light and resume their romantic relationship. 

 

Vic had made point of not teasing Mac on the subject. He had, however, made it clear that he was available to drink, talk, and commiserate. 

 

Mac - being Mac - had spent the first three months after the loss of his dreams, hitting various clubs in town. Vic had come damned close to giving up as the constant parade of one-night stands passed through Mac's bedroom. 

 

Attempts at numbing his frustrated disappointment had been scant consolation. As were the fantasies he enjoyed while jerking off to of Mac and himself fucking their brains out. Which would never happen if the idiot didn't capitulate, seeing him as something more than a rival for LiAnn's attention. 

Granted, the occasional flash of sexual awareness in Mac's eyes was encouraging. As was the way his partner stood just a little too close. And the casual brushes of Mac's fingers across Vic's shoulders, his waist, his back... 

 

And now, after all this time, Mac was *finally* ready - Vic hoped - to move on. Take their relationship to the next level. 

 

Last night's call had been... thrilling, to say the least. Well versed in Mac-speak, Vic had had little trouble seeing past Mac's hemming and hawing and dithering. The kid *was* interested! He actually wanted to spend part of his vacation with Vic. 

 

A better chance would never come Vic's way again, and he fully intended to take advantage of the opportunity. 

 

And, if he *was* wrong... Well, at least the humor to be found in Mac's inevitable reaction to camping - and fishing - would provide him with months, if not years, of hilarity. 

 

*** 

 

"Okay, okay. I hear you, dammit." 

 

Vic grinned and continued to pound on Mac's door. 

 

"*Tieu*! Keep your damned pants on, man. I'm coming, I'm coming." 

 

Oh boy. What a thought that was... With a deep breath, Vic determinedly erased the picture of Mac saying those words under different circumstances. 

 

Running a shaky hand over his face, Vic told his cock, "Down, boy. Let me down now and we'll *never* get him. We'll be stuck with my right hand until the end of time." 

 

The threat worked to some extent. Still, Vic wished that he'd worn roomier jeans. 

 

The door opened a crack, and one brown eye glared at him balefully. "Do you know what *time* it is, Victor?" 

 

After making a show of checking his watch, Vic nodded. "4:00." 

 

"You said 5, Vic. Don't deny it; I was there. 5 AM, you said. Clear as day, 5. Speaking of day, it's... unnatural to be awake at this hour - unless you're just headed to bed after a night of partying." 

 

"Mac. Stop whining." 

 

The younger man snorted. "I'm not whining, asshole. I'm complaining. There *is* a difference, you know. I'm just expressing perfectly legitimate complaints about being hauled out of bed at this ungodly hour." 

 

Even as he said this, Mac stepped back, gesturing for Vic to enter with an exaggerated sweep of one arm. "Please, do come in, Victor. And tell me why the hell you're here before the crack of dawn." 

 

Vic offered Mac a cup of coffee he'd brought from home in an insulated mug. "If I hadn't gotten here early, you'd have slept until 4:50, leapt out of bed and dressed at the very last minute." 

 

"So?" Mac grouched, running the fingers through his sleep-tousled hair. 

 

"So..." Vic licked his lips, wishing that his were the fingers running through Mac's hair. 

 

"Earth to Victor." Mac snapped his fingers under Vic's nose. "Anyone home in there?" 

 

Blinking, Vic brought his unruly imagination under control. "So, this way you're up in plenty of time to shower, eat breakfast, and drink a couple of cups of coffee." 

 

"Which will only wake me up. Which means I won't be able to sleep while you drive to wherever the hell you're dragging me," Mac bitched. Then, hearing his own words, he hastily added, "Not that I actually intend to go along with this insane idea of yours." 

 

Crossing to the couch, Vic sat down and propped his feet up on the coffee table. He opened the early edition of the newspaper he'd purchased on the way over, took a sip of coffee, and proceeded to read the front page. 

 

"What the hell are you doing?" 

 

"I'm reading the paper, Mac." 

 

"Dammit, Vic! Have you lost your mind?" 

 

"Go take a shower," Vic instructed. "And don't forget to dress for camping." 

 

"You're *nuts*," Mac growled, but he did turn and walk back towards the bedroom. Bitching the entire way... 

 

"Camping! 

 

"Man's gone around the bend. 

 

"Nutty as a fruitcake. 

 

"Never thought he had a sadistic streak, though." 

 

Vic was quietly losing it, giggling madly, as Mac's complaints continued to be clearly audible even after he'd slammed his way into the bathroom: "Camping! Dress for camping, Mac. Wear your boots, Mac. I have an extra fishing pole for you, Mac." 

 

When the shower finally drowned out Mac's voice, Vic just howled. He laughed so hard that tears streamed down his cheeks. 

 

*** 

 

Despite his dire predictions to the contrary, Mac slept through the entire drive. Not that Vic minded... well, the snoring was a little irritating. But opportunities such as this seldom, if ever, came his way. So he took full advantage of the situation, feasting his eyes on Mac, face curiously peaceful in repose, not showing even a hint of the smart-assed, clownish mask that Mac wore in public. And the younger man's body... completely relaxed, yet ready to spring into action at the first hint of danger. 

 

Although he was, in fact, bisexual, Vic hadn't considered Mac as a possible lover - at first. His own determination to make a go of it with LiAnn aside, Mac's sarcastic, careless approach to life had quashed any interest in this 'brother' of LiAnn's right from the get-go. 

 

Sure, he'd noticed Mac's physical beauty. Who wouldn't? But, Vic's days of casual one night stands were in the past, and that, he felt sure, was all Mac had to offer. 

 

The change in his attitude towards Mac had been gradual. As time passed, and Mac showed more and more of his inner self, Vic came to realize that the face Mac presented to the world was a mask to hide the sensitive, easily hurt man that he truly was. Much to his amazement, Vic grew to like the man behind the mask. Like grew into admiration, then lust, and then love. 

 

Knowing Mac as he did, Vic had taken things slowly. He'd waited patiently, hoping that LiAnn's assurances of Mac's returned interest weren't just wishful thinking on Vic's part. 

 

And, damned if she hadn't been right. After so very long, Mac was finally showing signs of being ready to admit that he was interested. This trip offered the perfect opportunity to test the waters - see if Mac and he could maybe try to have a relationship. Alone for three days, sharing a tent, a chance to let Mac see Vic away from the pressures of their lives... 

 

//Please, let this work,// Vic silently begged any gods that might be listening. 

Ninety minutes later, Vic exited the highway. He followed a route through small towns, down narrow country roads, until he turned onto a dirt access road which led him past a large farm that belonged to an old friend. When he reached his destination, a grassy site near the river, surrounded by huge and ancient trees, he parked and reached over to give Mac a gentle nudge. 

 

"Hey, Sleeping Beauty," he almost whispered. "Rise and shine." 

 

"Mmbplf," was the mumbled response. 

 

"Mac," he said, a bit louder. "We're here, Mac. Time to wake up." 

 

"Don' wanna," Mac grumbled, still more than half asleep. "Lemme 'lone." 

 

Vic shook Mac's shoulder. "Wake *up*, Ramsey." 

 

"F'ck you." 

 

"Not right now," Vic said with amusement. "We have to set up camp. Then you can fuck me." 

 

Mac blinked, scrubbed his face with both hands, and then took a good look at the area. "Have I mentioned lately that you're a sadistic SOB and I hate you?" 

 

After giving the question careful consideration, Vic shook his head. "No, you 

haven't." 

 

"Well, you are. And I do." 

 

"I hate you too, partner," Vic said with gentle amusement. "Now," he released his seatbelt and opened the driver's side door, "let's get to work. If we want to spend some time fishing and get in some hiking later, we need to get the campsite set up." 

 

"I *really* hate you," Mac reiterated. 

 

*** 

 

Tent erected, fire pit constructed, and food safely stowed in the truck's cab, Vic pulled the fishing gear out and announced that it was time for Mac's first lesson. 

 

"I told you, asshole - I. Do. Not. Fish." 

 

"High time you learned," Vic answered patiently. 

 

As they walked to the water's edge, Mac's complaints were loud and long. Vic just smiled and ignored him. 

 

*** 

 

About 6pm, after Mac had meticulously scrubbed the smell of fish from his body and changed into fresh clothing, Vic decided that a hike was in order. 

 

"But, Vic," Mac protested, "it's getting dark." 

 

"Best time. The animals are just waking up. We stand a good chance of seeing all kinds of wildlife." 

 

"Wildlife?" Mac was clearly suspicious. "What kind of wildlife?" 

 

"Oh... deer, raccoons, owls, bears, wolves. You know, *wildlife*." 

 

"Victor..." The whites of Mac's eyes shone in the late afternoon light. "Not that I'm scared or anything, but, bears? And wolves? Aren't they a little dangerous?" 

 

Although he tried, Vic couldn't help laughing. "Relax, partner. No bears have been sighted around here for years, and the wolves are fat and happy now on a steady diet of the weak and the young of deer and small mammals." 

 

Mac crinkled his nose. "That's disgusting, Vic." 

 

"It's just the rhythm of life." 

 

"It's still disgusting. Wolves eating *Bambi*." 

 

"'Bambi'? You've seen 'Bambi'?" Vic asked, confused. "How does a Hong Kong street urchin see 'Bambi'?" 

 

Eyes averted, Mac shrugged. "Jackie made me watch it." 

 

"Oh?" 

 

"Well, we were on a surveillance job - you remember, three fucking days watching that Alder guy - and we got pretty bored. So... she played that movie." He sighed. "*Three times*!" 

 

Vic's eyebrows rose. "And you *liked* it?" 

 

At this point, Mac was actually shuffling his feet. "I never saw any Disney movies when I was a kid, Vic. And, c'mon, you have to admit that it's a good movie." He cleared his throat. "I just... kinda got caught up in it." 

 

Vic snorted. "Come on, Mr.-Bleeding-Heart. I promise that no wolves will kill Bambi in your presence." 

 

Eventually, Mac's sotto-voice complaints died away as even he fell under the spell of the peace and quiet surrounding them as dusk fell. 

 

Two hours later, they returned to the campsite in companionable silence. 

Together, they prepared an evening meal of freshly-caught trout and baked potatoes. Lounging comfortably at the fireside, they sipped the coffee Vic had brewed and talked quietly, sharing stories of their respective youths. 

 

*** 

 

"What do you mean there's only one air mattress?" Mac asked loudly. 

 

Vic shrugged. "It's plenty big enough for two, Mac. Don't tell me you're such a prude that sharing a bed with me disgusts you." 

 

"That is *not* the problem, Victor." 

 

"Hmm. So, you're what? Afraid I'll molest you in your sleep?" 

 

"Don't be ridiculous!" 

 

"Afraid you'll molest me?" 

 

"*NO*!" 

 

"Well then, there's no problem. Right?" 

 

"You... I... " Mac sputtered. 

 

Vic raised an eyebrow questioningly. "You, I, what?" 

 

"Oh hell, never mind," Mac said, finally capitulating. "Let's just... go to bed, dammit." 

 

"Okay," Vic agreed mildly. 

 

*** 

 

"What are you doing, Vic?" 

 

"Snuggling." 

 

"Oh. Why?" 

 

"Because I'm cold and you're like a blast furnace." 

 

Vic shifted even closer, plastering himself to Mac's side and burying his face into Mac's neck. He threw one leg across Mac's thighs and worked one hand under his long-sleeved t-shirt to rest on his chest - right over the stunned young man's thudding heart. 

 

"Much better," Vic murmured with a contented sigh. 

 

"Um... Vic, I don't think-" 

 

"Relax, Mac," Vic soothed. "I promise not to molest you. Your virtue is safe tonight." 

 

"That hard-on pressed against my hip doesn't exactly inspire trust, Vic." 

 

Vic hmm'd. "Stop worrying. I can control myself. 'Sides, rape isn't my style. I prefer a willing partner." 

 

"Victor..." 

 

"Mac. Go. To. Sleep." 

 

"I... don't think I can." 

 

"Ma-aac." 

 

"Sorry, Vic." 

 

With a heavy sigh, Vic moved back, putting a (somewhat) respectable distance between them. "There. Feel better now?" 

 

"Yeah. Thanks." 

 

About ten minutes later, Mac cleared his throat. 

 

"What now?" 

 

"I lied." 

 

"Huh?" 

 

"I lied, Vic," Mac said, quite clearly irritated. "I don't feel better." 

 

Manfully restraining his impulse to shout *YES* and do a victory dance, Vic just moved closer. Back in his original position - draped over Mac - he sighed happily and smiled. "Okay?" 

 

Mac grunted. Which, Vic decided, was far better than his first reaction to being this close. 

 

"G'night," he said softly. 

 

"Yeah. 'Night." Mac offered in turn. "Sleep well." 

 

And Vic did.


	3. Intrigued

  
Author's notes: The boys are still a-camping   


* * *

Notes: As always, thanks to my brilliant beta's: Sue and Ori. 

 

 

The body in question was decidedly male, however, was a little odd. He'd seldom spent an entire night with a man. 

 

But. 

 

Opening one eye to glance down at the head resting on his shoulder, Mac saw Vic plastered against his side. And, damn, wasn't Vic's hair silky soft brushing against his skin? His lax body warm and trusting draped along Mac's side? It was... Nice, actually. 

 

And confusing. 

 

This was *Vic*. Boring, predictable Vic. 'Anything you can do, I can do better' Vic. Rampantly heterosexual Vic. Vic with the pretty eyes and sinfully lush eyelashes. Vic with the lips that just begged to be kissed. Vic who had actually asked to cuddle up with him last night. 

 

Damn and damn and *DAMN*. 

 

What the *hell* had happened? Mac mulled over several possibilities before deciding that some kind of mind-altering drug had been slipped into their drinking water. 

 

Mac knew that there could be only one suspect: The Director. Her sick and twisted sense of humor would be the death of him one day. 

 

He was beginning to think that today might just be that day... 

 

As he was contemplating his chances of sliding out of bed without waking Vic, he felt the soft flutter of eyelashes against his skin. Holding his breath, Mac waited for the inevitable explosion that he believed would occur when Vic realized whose shoulder he was sleeping on. His dread grew when Vic yawned and stretched. 

 

"Morning," murmured a sleep-roughened voice. 

 

"Vic?" he ventured cautiously. 

 

"Mmm hmm?" 

 

"You're not angry?" 

 

"Why would I be?" 

 

"Um... you do know that you're in bed with me? Mac? Your partner? Your *male* partner?" 

 

"Yes, Mac," Vic replied calmly. "I am aware of both your identity and your gender." 

 

"Oh." Mac swallowed heavily. "And you don't mind - that we're... you're... um." 

 

Rolling onto his back, Vic stretched again and rubbed his eyes. "Of course I don't mind, you idiot. It *was* my idea, after all." 

 

Having no idea how to respond, Mac elected to stay silent. He watched as Vic rose to his feet and pulled on a pair of jeans. 

 

The sight did not turn him on at all. Not even a little. Uh-uh. 

 

"Gotta go visit a tree," Vic said as he stepped into his boots. "You start a fire so we can get a pot of coffee brewing." 

 

*** 

 

Vic had acted so normally, well, as normal as Vic ever acted, that Mac was beginning to think that his suspicion that they'd been drugged was unfounded. Maybe, he thought hopefully, this was how a relaxed and happy Victor Mansfield behaved. 

 

"Something wrong, Mac?" Vic asked out of the blue as they sat at the fireside, enjoying one more post-dinner cup of coffee. 

 

"Not a thing," was the breezy answer. "What makes you ask?" 

 

Vic rolled his eyes in exasperation. "You haven't complained today." 

 

"I suppose it never crossed your mind that I might just be enjoying the peace and quiet?" 

 

"No, Mac. In fact, that possibility didn't even occur to me once." 

 

"Well, I am - enjoying myself." 

 

"Riight," Vic said sarcastically. "You're a regular nature lover." 

 

"Hey, you don't know everything about me." 

 

"You're right. I don't." Vic smiled in challenge. "Then you won't mind a quick bath in the river, will you, nature boy?" 

 

"A *what*?" Mac asked incredulously. "That water is freezing cold, Victor." 

"We stink, partner." 

 

"So?" 

 

"So, if you think I'm sleeping next to your odorous self, you are sadly mistaken. Besides, you need a shave." 

 

"I need...?" Mac shook his head, confused. "What the hell does my beard have to do with anything?" 

 

Vic rubbed a hand across his own lower face. "I have very sensitive skin. We wouldn't want anyone asking how I got beard burn, now, would we?" 

 

It had been a confusing day, to say the least. A confusing *two* days. And one night. Victor had been acting... weird. Friendly. Relaxed. Friendly! This, though... This open flirting was, well, it was so not Victor that Mac was once again leaning in the direction of his drugs-in-the-water theory. 

 

Because Vic was treating Mac as a friend and, most confusing of all, a potential lover. 

 

And Mac - well, Mac was completely confounded, not only by Vic's behavior, but by his own reaction to it. True, he'd always been aware of the older man's good looks. Knowing that Vic was an attractive man and finding himself seriously considering getting sexually involved with him, however, were two very different things. 

 

All day long Mac had found himself watching Vic with growing curiosity and desire. He'd been so distracted by this that he'd completely forgotten to bitch and moan about the hiking and fishing they'd engaged in. 

 

Then there were the thoughts of sleeping - on that one air mattress Vic had brought. Memories of how very much he'd enjoyed the previous night's closeness. The warmth. The way Vic had cuddled up to him. The way he'd wakened, Vic's body pressed close to him. 

 

Damn. 

 

And, fuck. Vic was making it rather clear that he intended to make some kind of Big Move. Very soon. 

 

Vic rose to his feet and stretched. "No time like the present," he announced cheerfully. "Go get your stuff and we'll wash up." 

 

Mac gulped. "Ah... Vic... Are you sure you're okay?" 

 

"Just fine, Mac. Just fine." 

 

Yes indeed, Mac thought, Vic was indeed. Fine. 

 

With a shake of his head - which did not have the hoped for effect of clearing his thoughts - Mac sighed heavily and looked up at his partner. "I think that maybe I'll let you go first, Vic." 

 

"You don't think that you might need a little... help?" Licking his lips suggestively, Vic used the eyelashes on him. 

 

"No," Mac squeaked. "Been washing myself for years now, Vic." 

 

"No mirror for shaving, though." 

 

"Battery-run electric." How he was managing to be even a little coherent was a complete mystery to Mac. 

 

"Mmm," Vic hummed throatily. "If you insist." 

 

Mac cleared his throat and nodded jerkily. "Um... yeah. I do. I'll clean up around here while you're washing, okay?" 

 

"No," Vic announced after frowning for a moment in thought. "You shave while I bathe. Then while you're washing I'll do a quick clean up." 

 

"No hurry," Mac said. "It's not even dark out yet." 

 

"Oh, my plans for the evening are complex. We won't get to sleep for hours." 

 

Wondering just when he'd lost his mind, Mac walked numbly over to the tent and pulled his shaver out of his kit. 

 

As he shaved, he searched his mind frantically for a way to talk Vic out of this madness gracefully. To talk *himself* out of doing something that they'd both regret once they were sane again. 

 

He flinched when Vic returned and spoke. Whirling around, he glared at his partner. "Don't sneak up on me that way, dammit!" 

 

With a knowing smirk, Vic shrugged. "Calm down, Mac. I'll take very good care of you tonight. No need to worry, you can trust me." 

 

Which was exactly what frightened Mac. 

 

"Go, Mac. Go now." 

 

So Mac did. Gathering his supplies, he walked to the river's edge and stripped. He was in such a shocked state - both at himself and Vic - that he never even noticed the chill of the water. All he could think about was Vic. Making love with Vic. 

 

"Hurry up, Mac!" Vic yelled impatiently. "I have everything ready." 

 

The implications of that statement made Mac's knees buckle alarmingly. With shaky and reluctant movements, Mac climbed out of the water and dried himself off. After donning a pair of sweats and a sweatshirt and socks - damn, a flannel would be good - maybe a parka - hell, maybe body armor - Mac gathered himself together as best he could and walked up to the tent. 

 

"Hail Victor," Mac misquoted. "We who are about to die, salute you." 

 

Raising the flap, Mac entered the tent. 

*** 

 

A/N - Having been threatened with an untimely and painful death by my beloved beta, Sue, I hereby promise that in the next section, "Sated", there WILL be s-e-x. Hot, sweaty, dirty, monkey sex. I will not, as she insinuated (quite suspiciously, I might add) be writing a story called "Frustration". At least, not now. I'm not even gonna go into Ori's comments.


	4. Sated

  
Author's notes: They finally do the deed  


* * *

Notes: This one is for Sigrid and Susan. Fröhliches Weihnachten meine Freunde.

 

 

Mac took in the gauzy scarf draped over the battery-powered lantern, the brand new tube of lubrication surrounded by an array of condoms, the way Vic lounged on the mattress. And panicked. His partner - his very heterosexual partner - would, once back in his right mind, *kill* Mac if he allowed this... this... this whatever this was, to go any further. 

 

"Um..." Mac gulped. Took a step back. "Tell you what, I'll just go sleep in the truck. In the morning we'll head back and have the Agency docs test your blood. I'm sure they can find an antidote for whatever drug you've taken."

 

"I'm not high, Mac."

 

Mac snorted. "Riiight."

 

"Calm down, partner. I am *not* drugged. Honest."

 

Frowning, Mac studied him, body visibly tense. "Vic, if you're not stoned out of your mind - and I really think you are - well, I really don't appreciate the way you're acting. You've been flirting with me since we got here. Acting all nice. Not arguing. *Looking* at me."

 

"At the risk of inflating that ego of yours, you're a good-looking man, Mac. I like looking at you."

 

"I knew it. You *are* high! We have to get back to civilization, so they can fix you." Nodding to himself, Mac started gathering their camping gear, mumbling to himself about drugs and crazed partners.

 

Tossing his blanket aside Vic made to rise.

 

"Victor!" Shocked, Mac grabbed the blanket and clumsily tried to wrap it around Vic's bare body. "Get back in bed! I'll take care of this. You rest."

 

"Only if you join me."

 

"Please, Vic, just lie down. I'm worried about you."

 

"I appreciate that." Vic soothed. "I really am sober, though. Tell you what, I'll lie down again if you'll stand still long enough to listen to me."

 

With a heavy sigh, Mac nodded his agreement. Once Vic was settled, he met Mac's worried gaze. "I know that I'm out of practice with this seduction thing, Mac, but... well, this isn't exactly the first time I've been attracted to a man. I do want you, and I think you want me, too."

 

"Not the first time?" Mac repeated dazedly. "You mean you're-"

 

"I'm bi, Mac - with a definite preference for men."

 

"Um." Mac blinked, rubbed his eyes, blinked again. "But... but LiAnn? Gloria?" Dazed, he shook his head. "You're fucking with me, Vic. Stop smirking! This is *not* funny."

 

"My first lover was a guy," Vic said in a low voice. "We were fifteen. When dear old dad walked in on us... well, it wasn't pretty. After that I was careful, particularly when I joined the force. I've been attracted to you for a long time and, well, you know what? When you called me the other day, I thought you were finally ready."

 

"Ready?"

 

"To admit that you wanted me too."

 

Mac frowned. "I don't suppose it occurred to you that I was just bored? That I'm straight? That even if I *was* interested in men, you're not my type?"

 

"Nope."

 

"That's all you have to say? Nope?"

 

"Yep." With an evil smile, Vic raised his arms, cradling his head in both hands. He shifted his hips, settling deeper into the mattress.

 

"Stop that!"

 

"Hmmm?"

 

"You're... you're *wiggling*. And smiling." Looking distinctly haunted, Mac glanced to one side for a beat, then his eyes met Vic's again. "For heaven's sake, Vic! Those eyelashes of yours should be registered as lethal weapons. Put 'em away."

 

"Come to bed, Mac." Not only did Vic continue to use his eyelashes, he licked his lips and ran one hand across his chest.

 

"I-I-I don't think-"

 

"Then don't think. Just do it."

 

As if hypnotized, Mac took a step towards the bed. He pulled his sweatshirt off and dropped it on the ground, then toed his camp mocs off. When his shaking fingers moved to the button at the waist of his jeans, Vic shook his head.

 

"Let me," he all but purred.

 

"Ungh."

 

Apparently taking Mac's non-verbal response as a good sign, Vic moved over and patted the mattress invitingly. "C'mon. Join me."

 

Once he'd tentatively lain down, Mac cleared his throat. "Vic? What made you think that I might... you know."

 

Vic rolled onto his side, facing Mac and propping his head on one hand. "At first I didn't. Then, I talked to LiAnn. She said that you were equally interested in me, but not ready to admit it to me or yourself, let alone me"

 

"She didn't!"

 

"She was a little more graphic, but, yeah, that was the gist of it," Vic said with a grin.

 

"Do you and LiAnn often talk about me?"

 

"Oh, now and then." Cocking an eyebrow at Mac, Vic tilted his head to one side and smiled. "You got a problem with that?"

 

"I'm... not sure."

 

"Okay. Well, you think about it and let me know when you decide. In the meantime..."

 

"The meantime? I... Oh. Oh yeah. You, um, want to-"

 

"Mmmm," Vic purred, lightly running his fingers through the hair on Mac's chest. "Yes, Mac. I definitely want to."

 

"'K," Mac gasped, arching up in reaction to Vic's fingers pinching a nipple. "'S good. Do that again."

 

With a chuckle, Vic complied. And decided to up the ante by lowering his head and licking the nipple he'd so far neglected. 

 

Fingers wove their way into his hair, pressing his face encouragingly against Mac's chest. "More," the younger man moaned. "Moremoremore."

 

"Patience, Grasshopper."

 

"Fuck patience. I said more. *Now*!"

 

"Hey, who's seducing who, here?" Much amused, Vic rolled on top of Mac and sighed happily at the head to toe contact. "You're awfully pushy considering that this was *my* idea, hotshot."

 

"Uh." Mac grunted and writhed as Vic ground their lower bodies together. "You," he panted, "are a pain in the ass!"

 

"Not planning to be a pain in *your* ass. At least not yet."

 

"Huh?"

 

"You're gonna fuck me this time."

 

Mac gasped, tilting his head back, offering Vic's lips and teeth and tongue more access to his throat.

 

"I want you inside of me, Mac. Want to feel you as far inside of me as possible."

 

"Jesus!" Reaching down, Mac viciously pinched his cock in an effort to stave off orgasm. "N-no-good, prickteasing bastard!"

 

 

"It's not teasing, if I plan to follow through and let you fuck me." Vic grinned and wriggled his way down to nibble Mac's achingly hard nipples. "And... I do. Plan to follow through."

 

 

"Then what the *hell* is taking so long?"

 

 

"This is a little thing I like to call foreplay, genius. Surely you've heard of it..."

 

 

"Foreplay. Yeah. But... Enough already!"

 

 

Vic laughed, then raised one of Mac's hands to his mouth, pulling two fingers in and wetting them. When Mac froze, apparently unable to move, Vic impatiently pushed the hand down to his ass. "Loosen me up, please."

 

 

"Ever heard the term 'demanding bottom'?" Mac gasped. "Oh my god, Vic, you're so hot. So *tight*"

 

 

"So glad that you approve." Legs now spread; Vic canted his hips encouraging deeper exploration. "Oh, *fuck*! That's it, Mac," he moaned when a fingertip found and massaged his prostate. "Now. I'm ready, I'm *so* ready."

 

 

Mac snorted and lifted his head to meet Vic's desperate eyes. "What was that you said about patience?"

 

 

"Shut up and *fuck* me, Ramsey."

 

 

"Your wish... " 

 

 

Withdrawing his fingers from Vic's ass, Mac reached over for a condom and the lube. He opened the foil package and meticulously rolled the latex sheath over his erection.

 

 

"Could you *possibly* move any more slowly?" Vic bitched. He grabbed the lube from Mac's hand and opened it. "Let me."

 

 

"Y-yeah," Mac stuttered as Vic covered his cock with slick.

 

 

And there he was, flat on his back, legs spread lewdly, Mac condomed and lubed, kneeling between his legs. All systems "go".

 

 

Why then, Vic wondered with impatience, was Mac not *doing* anything? Frozen in place, looking for all the world like a frightened virgin? His first instinct was to express his extreme annoyance in no uncertain terms, and was about to blast Mac, but after a little mature consideration, he decided that things considered, a more gentle approach might be a better approach.

 

 

"Mac? What's the matter?"

 

 

Mac averted his eyes and blushed.

 

 

"I need a little help here, partner. Am I wrong? About you wanting me?" Sitting up, Vic tapped lightly on Mac's worried brow with one finger. "Talk to me. I... Look, if I am wrong, if you *don't* want me, it's okay. I'll survive, you know. I'll be terminally embarrassed that you know how I feel, but I'll be fine."

 

 

"No!" Mac objected loudly. "I... that's not it. I do. Want you."

 

 

"But?"

 

 

"But I can't... this wouldn't be a casual thing for me, Vic. I, um..." Clearing his throat, Mac shifted uncomfortably. "I can't... "

 

 

"Mac," Vic interrupted. "Sex is never a casual thing for me. And with you... " he sighed and shrugged. "I'm in love with you. Have been for a long time. As usual, I seem to have fucked things up by jumping the gun."

 

 

When Mac failed to respond, Vic realized that he really *had* misjudged the situation. And, with his usual talent, he'd fucked up in a way that would probably cause the end of his and Mac's partnership. Which was pretty much par for the course; he never had been lucky in love.

 

 

"Look, Mac... I'm sorry. Okay? I'll talk to the Director about a transfer first thing Monday."

 

 

"Wait." Mac grabbed Vic's arm, preventing his attempt to climb up off of the mattress. "Vic, just... wait a minute. I *do* want you. As a lover, not a fuck buddy, and I thought you - well, okay, wrong there. I hate to use the "R" word. It scares me half to death, but there it is. That's what I want, a r-relationship. With you."

 

 

Vic closed his eyes with relief. "Good. That's... yeah. A relationship is good."

 

 

"I do have a question, though."

 

 

"Okay...?"

 

 

"Are you always so.... Ahem... Do you always act like..."

 

 

"Such a slut?" Vic asked, mildly embarrassed but mostly amused.

 

 

"Well, I wouldn't have used that word. Probably. But, yeah."

 

 

Grinning with evil intent, Vic fell back on the bed and pulled Mac atop him. "No. But you seem to inspire my inner slut, Ramsey. Live with it."

 

 

"Oh, God," Mac groaned. "Do you think we could maybe kiss now?"

 

 

"Always said you were a genius, partner."

 

 

"You've *never* said mmmph-"

 

 

Forced by the threat of anoxia to break off the kiss, Mac hummed his approval. "You feel good, you taste good, and you're really pretty."

 

 

Vic frowned. "Pretty?" he repeated indignantly. "I am *not*-"

 

 

Another kiss muffled Vic's complaint pleasantly and effectively. "So that's how to shut you up."

 

 

Before he could even begin to tell Mac just how much he would not allow such a devious, underhanded (underlipped?) method to always work on a regular basis, Vic was caught in another liplock. He decided to set Mac straight on that score later. Much later.

 

 

It took a while for them to reach *that* moment. A long while. But finally, after an extended period of play, it was time. Not that Vic *minded* all of Mac's touches. Caresses. Kisses. They - it - *Mac* - was great. It was incredible what that tongue of Mac's could do to Vic's body. Everything was good. And, when the tip of Mac's cock pressed against his opening, Vic was pretty sure he was about to realize perfection.

 

 

Mac pushed. Very slowly and with great care, the head of his erection entered Vic's body.

 

 

It had been a very, very long time, though. Vic was tight and he couldn't prevent the wince.

 

 

Great big - B-I-G - mistake!

 

 

Because Mac froze. His cock deflated like a popped balloon. He scrambled back, babbling in panic, "Sorry. Shit. Hurt you. Sorry. Dammit. Can't hurt *you*."

 

 

"Mac, shut up."

 

 

"Blowjob," Mac continued as if Vic hadn't spoken. "That'll work. Everyone likes a blowjob."

 

 

"MAC!"

 

 

"Okay, okay. Not a blowjob." Frowning, Mac chewed on his lower lip. Then his face lit with inspiration. "I know. You can fuck me."

 

 

"Mac," Vic said quietly, patting the mattress. "Do me a favor? Lie down here."

 

 

"But I... Okay," he agreed.

 

 

He didn't move, though.

 

 

With a tolerant sigh, Vic carefully maneuvered his uncharacteristically hesitant partner into a reclining position. Immediately, he climbed astride Mac's hips and leaned forward, resting the majority of his weight on both elbows.

 

 

"Mac."

 

 

Mac studied the tent wall with great interest.

 

 

"Mac! Look at me, Ramsey."

 

 

Mac turned his attention to the tent's ceiling.

 

 

Deciding to pull out the big guns, Vic gave it another try. "Mac?" He used his most mournful voice. "Please look at me. Please?"

 

 

Mac looked.

 

 

"Thank you," Vic said, rewarding him with a kiss. "I think you need to talk a little more, huh?"

 

 

Mac nodded.

 

 

"Okay. What's the problem? I *know* you've had male lovers. Yes, LiAnn told me that, too. So. You *must* know that a little pain, which lasts for just a moment, is normal when a man gets fucked."

 

 

Mac nodded again.

 

 

"I'm sure that I've made it crystal clear that I want you to fuck me."

 

 

Nod.

 

 

This was a side of Mac that Vic had only ever seen the barest glimpses of over the years, this man, so shy, and unsure of himself, so desperately hungry for affection. Open to Vic in a way he'd never been before.

 

 

And, Vic found that he loved it. Loved Mac more than he had the words to express.

 

 

"Mac, I love you."

 

 

The combination of disbelief and yearning in Mac's eyes made Vic want to cry. He wanted to wrap the younger man in his arms and hold him close, whispering promises and love and reassurances until he was believed. 

 

 

"I'm telling you the truth, Mac. I really do love you. The arguments, the insults, the bitching... that's just 'us'. But, I know you'll always have my back, and I'll have yours. We're good together. This," he waved one hand in the air between their bodies, "won't change that. It'll only make us better together."

 

 

Trembling fingers reached up and touched Vic's cheek, cautious hope appearing in Mac's expression.

 

 

That deserved another kiss. Several long, enjoyable minutes later, Vic caught his breath, then spoke, "It's true, Mac. I do love you. I want you. I *need* you."

 

 

Happily, Mac's cock had once again joined the party. Sitting up, Vic reached back and, after lining things up to his satisfaction, slowly lowered himself onto Mac.

 

 

"Oh *Shit*."

 

 

"Got your - uuh - voice back, I see," Vic said, grinning.

 

 

"Fuck! Vic... Jesus, you feel so..."

 

 

"LiAnn told me - oh *shit*, yeah - that you were the silent type - damn, Mac, that's... really good - in bed."

 

 

"Always have been. Before you," Mac said. Then he gasped. "How - fuck! - how the *hell* do you *do* that?"

 

 

"If you can still talk, I'm not doing it right." He adjusted his position just *so*.

 

 

Mac continued to talk - well, babble might have been a better description of the odd mixture of English and Chinese words, punctuated by a variety of yells, grunts, and groans he was making. Vic, however, didn't notice.

 

 

He was too busy making sounds of his own.

 

 

To their mutual embarrassment - and pleasure - things ended rather quickly. Vic closed one hand around his own cock, Mac came with a scream, (he'd deny *that* one until his dying day,) and Vic orgasmed so damned hard that he passed out cold.

 

 

(Which *he'd* deny until *his* dying day)

 

 

Oddly enough, Vic never did have any trouble talking Mac into subsequent camping trips. He never quite managed to convince Mac that fishing was an enjoyable pastime. But that was okay.

 

 

Because they *were* good together. In Mac's opinion, a little fishing, or being forced to listen to the occasional jazz or blues recording was a small price to pay. He continued to complain, for appearances' sake. But he didn't really mind.

 

 

Which Vic knew.

 

 

And Mac knew that Vic knew.

 

 

And that was okay, too.

 

 

In fact, everything was just fine.

 

 

**THE END**

 

A/N: This is *definitely* the last story in this series. (If one is kind enough to call them stories). Forget it, Angyl. The Bored Series (Which I apparently renamed the "Change of Heart" series) has left the building.


End file.
